


Hot man in restaurant

by ipushedher



Category: Captain America (Movies), MCU, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bucky needs to slow his roll, M/M, Missed Connections, Stucky - Freeform, alternating pov, and calm his tits, and cool his jets, restaurant, salty language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4578258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ipushedher/pseuds/ipushedher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: I waited on you and a few other guys tonight. You caught my eye, very handsome! I think you were looking at me as well. You were visiting area. Where are u from? What restaurant was it? What did u order? I know it's a long shot but worth a try ;)</p><p>Steve works at a restaurant that Bucky and co. go to occasionally. Bucky has returned home after spending time in the Army and Steve is overqualified for his job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot man in restaurant

Steve Rogers was a young man who took life seriously and tried his best to keep to himself, honest. Sometimes that didn’t work. Case in point: Steve Rogers recently got fired from a promising career at an architectural and interior design firm over a case of sexual harassment. No, no, he wasn’t the one being harassed or harassing. Steve was fired because he punched his boss in the face after being told multiple times to leave his personal assistant alone, both by the assistant and Steve. 

That being said, he now had a new job: waiting tables at a fairly upscale restaurant in a fancy area. It wasn’t anything the small bodied man hadn’t done before-- trying to get through university without loan debt hanging over his head-- but it was a far step below where he had hoped to see himself now that he had a degree and a house of his own. Steve wasn’t giving up his dream of architectural design, this just happened to be a detour before he went on to do good things with his talent.

The young artist was working an evening at the restaurant when the dinner rush came in three fold. Table after table, booth after booth, filled, cleaned, and then refilled with new customers. The wait staff kept on their toes until the crowd tapered off. Steve slouched behind the bar, letting his small size hide him from the manager for a moment so he could catch his breath. Darcy, one of the hostesses and busty to boot, found him there even once the restaurant manager retreated to the kitchens.

“Hey kiddo, I just seated a party of six in your section. Might want to hop to it before Phillips comes back out and hunts you down himself,” Darcy whispered over the edge of the bar.

The blond man looked up at the woman and nodded, standing himself up with faux pep. “I best get on that then.”

“I’d get on that too, climb them all like fucking trees.”

“Wait what,” Steve questioned, startled by Darcy’s muttering, but the hostess had returned to the podium to receive the next guests. With hesitation, the waiter approached his area of the floor and went to the only occupied booth, the large corner one with the circular table. 

And god damnit, Darcy had a point.

Six men were sitting at the booth, all business casual and relaxed in the uppity atmosphere. Steve stopped over to grab water glasses and a bread basket for the table as an excuse to watch the group from afar for just a moment more.

The first man, sitting on the far left was large and had a red mustache under his nose and dimples in his cheeks. He was the first to laugh and it affected all sitting at the table. He wore a bowler hat atop his head, tipped the barest bit to the right.

The man seated beside Bowler Hat was a slightly smaller in girth with dark hair and eyes. He too had a mustache, thinner than his friend’s though. From what Steve could hear, he spoke with an accent reminiscent of the British Isles.

To the right of Mustache was a man with a larger nose and looked to the oldest of the entire group. Like his other two friends, this man had a mustache that matched his dark hair dashed with a few strands of grey. He spoke in rapid fire French that no one but the man to his immediate right could catch.

French’s right side held a man with dark skin and a rigid back. He watched French closely and translated the raunchy jokes as best his could which got Bowler Hat laughing heartily every time. He cracked a bright smile that had even Steve smiling from his place in the corner.

Beside Smile was an Asian man with five o’clock shadow like nobody’s business. He placed both of his arms over the back of the booth, stretching out like he owned the place. The man winked across at Mustache after Smile translated another joke from French and Bowler Hat was now slapping the table and turning purple in the face.

Last, but not least, on the far right of the booth sat a man that Steve’s eyes lingered on the most. He was brunet and had lightly colored eyes, sat leaning back into the arm of Winks, and grimaced when the other men started speaking loudly over one another. His green button down shirt was tucked neatly into his black slacks, but his darker green tie hung loosely around his neck and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone and showed the white undershirt beneath. 

At long last, the waiter brought over six glasses of water and the bread basket, only once Phillips made it back out of the kitchen and gave Steve a side-eye. Once the drinks had been placed and the basket pulled in by the grabby hands of Mustache, Steve introduced himself.

“Good evening, gentlemen, my name is Steve and I’ll be your server tonight. Maybe I start you off with any drinks or appetizers?”

“Do we look like gentlemen? I thought these guys looked like a couple of mooks, especially Dernier,” Bowler Hat ribbed, shoving his elbow into Mustache’s side. The slice of bread in the man’s hand fell to the top of the table and Mustache sighed loudly.

“You’re the mook, Dum Dum,” Mustache retaliated while French, now rightfully named Dernier, scowled and seemed to curse at Dum Dum. Seems the Frenchman knew English, since Smile hadn’t said a word of French to the man.

Handsome was the one to bring the jibbing to an end and bring the original point back to the table. 

“Guys, Steve if still waiting for your drinks, don’t make him stand here all night.”

All eyes swung around to look at Handsome like he grew a third head. The air got tense for a moment, only being broken by Dum Dum who spoke to Steve.

“Got any good bourbon? Oh and I’ll get the appetizer platter too.” 

The men went in order, left to right, placing their drink orders and staying calm as they were jotted down by the waiter. It left Steve feeling uneasy, so once Handsome finished, the blond man made his way to the order screen.  
\---------------------

“And here we all thought you wouldn’t mind Steve standing near you all evening, Bucky,” Gabe, dubbed Smile by Steve in his mind, shot at his friend. The other four men in the booth agreed in varying displays of nods.

“Yeah, we only come here every time you’re in town and watch you moon over the kid. Pretty sad man, pretty sad,” Morita, also known as Winks, commented next. By now he had removed his arms from the booth back and had them crossed over his chest.

Dum Dum, Dernier, and Monty (Mustache) watched intently from their side of the table, making Bucky tense in his seat and close off his body language.

“He has a job to do and I won’t get in the way of that. He doesn’t need to hear all of your bad jokes and get in trouble in the process,” Bucky huffed, his eyes steely. The man hadn’t been in a good mood when the party had arrived and his friends were only making it worse with their assumptions and questions.

“Dude, we’re just teasing you, don’t get your granny panties in a twist. Though you should totally ask him out,” Dum Dum pointed out, scoffing at the look Bucky shot across the table.

“Drop it, please. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Man, lighten the fuck up,” Gabe shot at the brunet.

Before Bucky could again engage, Steve emerged from the kitchen with a tray laden with drinks and appetizers, making a beeline for their table.

“I won’t hesitate to castrate anyone who says a word about this,” Bucky said under his breath, and went silent.  
\-------------------

“I’ve got bourbon, Heineken, brandy, rum and coke, large lemonade, and a Long Island Iced Tea. Here are the appetizer platters as well. Are you ready to order now, or do you all need another moment,” Steve inquired as he distributed the drinks and food amongst the six men.

“No, I believe we are ready,” Mustache answered, “and please place this all on one bill. Our dear friend Bucky has returned home and we are celebrating.”  
Surprised, Steve glanced around at the men until he caught on to their gazes pointed at Handsome. Clearing his throat, the waiter tucked his tray under his arm and pulled the order pad from his apron with a pen.

“Sounds like a plan, gentlemen. What can I get you all?”

Dum Dum again started after the ensuing awkwardness.

Upon getting to Bucky, Steve again cleared his throat and spoke, “And you, sir?”

“The grilled salmon, salad, Italian dressing, and the vegetable of the day instead of the potato, please.”

“I’ll go put this in then. If you need anything, let me know,” with that, Steve departed from the table and again went to the order screen. Darcy was standing beside it with a knowing look on her face, making the feeling of uneasiness return to the blond.

“I know something you don’t know,” she sing-songed, her voice being a high trill at the end.

“And what would that be, Darcy,” the blond inquired of her, keeping his face from becoming a frown.

“The guy on the end, without the hat, seems to have a bit of a crush on you. Heard the fellas talking when you went to get drinks. Said they’ve been watching surly and brooding clutch a quivering breast whenever he lays eyes on you.”

Steve let himself frown now and raised an eyebrow at his friend. It was truly weird for the blond, having never been in this sort of situation. He wasn’t a looker, with his slight frame and one million and one aliments, but Steve had dated before. This however was like a scene out of a high school drama, so the man took it with a grain of salt.

“Oh I’m sure I’m just making his meat suit all gooey.”

“Was that…? Nevermind. Just make sure he knows you’re legal, you look like a high schooler.”

“I’ll have you know I am 27 and have two degrees, Darcy Lewis. You look like a high schooler.”

“Aww that’s so sweet, Steve. I’m still young looking,” Darcy said over her shoulder, leaving the waiter behind to return to the podium at the front of the restaurant.

Mumbling curses under his breath, Steve returned to his area to attend the few other guests seated there. He snuck glances once or twice, but never allowed himself to linger on the men, primarily Bucky.  
\--------------------

“What the fuck did I say Monty, the fuck,” Bucky hissed at the brit, tucking his chin down and leaning into the table.

“You said you would castrate anyone who said a word about “this,” which I assumed meant talk about your ridiculous crush on the waiter and the fact you won’t do a damn thing about it, not the fact you have been discharged from the army and we are here to celebrate your safe return to US soil.”

The tone Monty used brokered no argument from Bucky, though he remained angry at the man.

“Bucky, man, you need to relax. We don’t like seeing you like this. Yeah, the reason you’re home sucks, but you’re out of harm’s way and you haven’t gotten laid in six years. I’m sorry, nine years. This is the first time we’ve seen you actively interested in a person since you got sent on your first tour,” Gabe explained once a moment of silence lasted too long for any of their liking.

The man in question huffed and cast his gaze to the left, tracing the carpet pattern with his eyes and thinking about his next words carefully.

“I don’t appreciate you guys joking about all of this. Sure, I admit to not looking to date or anything like that for a while, but you guys talking about it makes me want to not do anything about it. So, just leave it alone. Dum Dum, how’s Lorraine?”

With the topic officially changed and the men taking Bucky’s words to heart, for the moment, they talked until Steve once again returned with their meals and drink refills.

The rest of the night passed relatively quietly, sedate even, until the bill had been placed on the table and a mad scramble between five of the men began. Dernier won, if you could call paying the bill winning.  
\---------------------------

After the party of six left, Steve began the job of cleaning off the table and cleaning the rest of his section as the restaurant closed for the night. He scooped up the bill folder left in the large booth, opening it to check if anything had been left behind. A sizeable tip and the merchant’s copy of the receipt lay inside. The blond took the money and stuffed it in his apron to count later, and he almost missed the writing on the back of receipt as he went to place it in the cash drawer to be organized by Phillips. 

“8675309 –Bucky,” was written in a neat scrawl on the back of the paper. So maybe Darcy was right. Huh. Best not to let her know, she’d be insufferable for days.

Steve stuffed the paper into his apron with his tips, least he forget the number written, and proceeded with the closing of the restaurant with the rest of the staff.  
\--------------------

“Which one of you assholes gave Steve my number,” Bucky forced out, looking down at his phone in the dark of the car. Morita was driving the mini-van, so the others took the chance to crane over their seats to sneak a peek at what their friend was talking about.

“Ce serait moi,” Dernier chuckled from the front seat, reclining the seatback until it lay solidly against the brunet man’s knees. The context was enough for Bucky to understand his French friend.

“You god damn son of a bitch,” Bucky muttered, referring to both the seat and his friend’s deceit. In the time it took, Steve sent a second text to compliment the first.

From: 2224986  
23:03:21 pm  
Msg: This is Steve, from the restaurant. Hi, Bucky.

From: 2224986  
23:05:56 pm  
Msg: Is this the right number? Oh god, it’s late, shit I’m sorry.

To: Steve  
23:06:37 pm  
Msg: Sorry yes it is I was just surprised is all lol

The texts between the two men lifted Bucky’s mood, letting him fall asleep on Monty’s sofa with a small smile on his face. He had a date and his friends could go fuck themselves.

To: Steve  
01:11:29 am  
Msg: may I take you out to coffee this Friday?

From: Steve  
01:11:53 am  
Msg: Yes, I’ve love to!

**Author's Note:**

> From the Missed Connections board on craigslist. http://detroit.craigslist.org/okl/mis/5171852423.html
> 
> If y'all miss the blatant Supernatural reference, I am going to laugh. You can take Darcy's reply any way you like. 
> 
> This also happened to be much longer than I thought I was going to make it, and it's going on 5 am now as I'm posting this, so if there are any glaring issues, please let me know because I don't have a beta to go over these and I literally just pulled this out of my ass. I checked three different translate sites for Dernier's one spoken phrase, so if it isn't correct, fuck the internet.
> 
> He says, "That would be me," if anyone wants to know.
> 
> These men are OOC, I'm sorry.


End file.
